


Crested Euphorbia

by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben and Rey get the goddamned therapy they deserve, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Flowers, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 17:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17812622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriarLily/pseuds/thewayofthetrashcompactor
Summary: Ben finds that the apartment he shares with Rey has become a reflection of their relationship over the years. But he’s made mistakes, and he’s not sure he likes everything he sees. He decides it’s time for some new memories.OrBen loves Rey very much and expresses himself through flowers.





	Crested Euphorbia

**Author's Note:**

> Finally posting my fic for the charity anthology! I started like three different fics for this project before finally settling on this one last minute, and I'm very happy this is the one that stuck. I have a lot of connection to this one, so I really hope you enjoy <3

Ben looks around the apartment and sighs. Green spills over from every surface. Leaves droop over the fridge and cabinets, small succulents crowd out books on the bookshelves, and each table holds a cluster of pots at its center. Enough pots crowd the windowsills that Rey built extra shelves to hold them to make sure they get enough light. It gives the impression of a budding greenhouse rather than a apartment where people live. 

He doesn’t mind the plants. Rey loves them, and he’d paint the walls bright purple with orange polka dots if it would make her happy. All he needs is a quiet space to relax and share with her. Having a home that she’s created and filled with things that make her happy is more important to her, after the mess of her childhood. He remembers the first time he’d seen Rey’s cramped apartment and the carefully maintained collection of plants she’d kept there. And then when he’d first given her one as a gift, a small jade plant because it reminded him of what she’d told him about where she grew up, she’d nearly teared up on the park bench they’d been sharing. She likes green things and growing and being surrounded by all of this _life_. She takes care of them with devotion, even if she doesn’t have much of a talent for it. He helps, keeping sticky notes around to try to remind them of which ones should be watered every other day and which only when the soil dries out. He understands the appeal of being able to keep something alive. 

So the plants themselves aren’t the problem. He’s happy to give over their entire apartment to them for Rey’s sake. The issue is that he knows where each and every one of them came from. The fluffy pale pink carnations, edging to white, that he’d given her early on, back when he was still working for Snoke, and had blown her off to work late. The tall and flourishing white orchid he’d brought back to her one late November after he’d made an ass of himself at Thanksgiving, storming out on his family even when Rey begged him not to. The potted ivy climbing from the top of the fridge down the side that he’d brought to her in shaking hands after he’d panicked and not called her for a week, convinced he was the worst thing that had happened to her and would do her a favor by staying away. The pot of mixed blue and violet hyacinths he’d sent to her work after he’d been snappish and rude when she stayed out later with Finn than she’d planned. The Lily of the Valley he’d left on her doorstep after their fight shortly before he finally left Snoke. 

Their entire relationship, documented in his mistakes, sits around him. Some small, like the aloe vera after he’d accidentally burned her when making supper one night had turned particularly handsy. Others, like the Star of Bethlehem, he can’t look at without feeling the need to apologize again. 

His hand twitches around his phone in his pocket, seriously debating calling her. He knows she’d understand and reassure him, just like he does for her when her insecurities come roaring back, born of a childhood convinced she wasn’t good enough for anyone to love. He runs his other hand through his hair, keeping his breathing even as he looks around again. He could call Rey, but he knows this will keep bothering him. And he can’t get rid of the plants. Rey loves them nearly as much as she loves him, has told him that they feel like being surrounded by reminders of when he took the time to find something especially for her. To her, they’re about him coming back, every time. So the plants are staying. And he needs to find a way to live with them. 

He gathers his coat and gives one last glare to the Japanese Peace Lily as he heads out the door. 

\---

He brings it up to Holdo at their regular appointment later in the week. It’s nagged at him the past couple days, but at least when Rey’s home with him, it’s easier to focus on her than anything around them. 

He stutters over his words several times before getting it out, staring at the ceiling as he waits for his therapist to answer. He’d been convinced it would be weird at first, seeing one of his mom’s oldest friends for all his messed up shit, but it turned out that Amilyn, having living through years of “Skywalker bullshit”, as she terms it, is uniquely qualified to deal with all his angst over that and everything else. 

She doesn’t say anything at first, and he focuses on the bird songs she keeps on in the background, at their lowest level but enough to keep him from being overwhelmed by anxiety at the void of silence. Finally, he looks back down to her and sees her smiling. When she meets his eyes, her smile widens and she starts talking. Right, eye contact. They’ve been working on this. 

“So Rey loves plants, but they make you anxious because you associate them with things you regret in your relationship?” 

He nods. 

“Oh, Ben,” she says gently. “Isn’t it obvious? Get her plants for good times, or just because. Make new memories with her, and the old ones will become much less important.”

He sits back in the couch, stunned at the simplicity of it. “Huh.”

She crosses her legs, resting her hands gracefully on the notebook perched on her knees. “Does that sound like something you can do?”

He nods again. “Yeah.”

\---

He heads straight to the flower shop after his appointment, feeling oddly hopeful. Some days, he leaves Holdo’s office feeling broken apart and exposed and drags himself back to the apartment to lay on the couch and think. More and more though, he finds himself feeling...lighter. Like the world might not be as terrible as he’d thought. With that in mind, he takes the car to the flower shop a couple blocks over from the apartment, where he’s bought more than one apology plant. If he’s going to start making new associations, this is as good a place as any. 

One of the owners waits behind the counter when he enters. Baze looks up to see the new customer, notices Ben, and goes back to his book, with something that’s almost an eyeroll. Ben bristles, but he’s set on this path now. 

He goes to the back of the store, past the arranged bouquets, to where they keep the potted plants. He knows the way well. He starts on the left, with the elegant flowers. He discards the orchids and tulips quickly, remember the white varieties of both of both waiting back in the apartment. The pink tulip takes a place of pride on the kitchen counter when it blooms, mocking him over dinner. The miniature red and white rose bushes are out for the same reasons. 

He starts to despair, feeling like there’s nothing here that he hasn’t used to apologize before, but then a tall flower with vibrant red and white streaked flowers catches his eye. He checks the label. Amaryllis. Rey doesn’t have any particular attachments to flowers over anything else, but he thinks she’d like the bright colors of this one. He considers it. 

“You again!” comes a voice next to him, and Ben jumps, hand clutching his chest. The other owner has appeared out of nowhere next to him, wearing a shit-eating grin. 

“Fuck,” Ben swears. 

“Language,” Chirrut chides, hitting his leg with his stick. Ben jumps again but presses his lips shut before another expletive escapes. “So what did you fuck up this time, eh?”

Ben glares and Chirrut gets the idea, even if he can’t see, grinning wider. “I didn’t do anything,” he snaps. 

Chirrut’s brow furrows in mocking disbelief. “You sure? You’re not in here getting a gift for that poor girl of yours?”

“I am,” Ben sighs. “But it’s not an apology. It’s just because.”

Chirrut hums thoughtfully. “Good,” he says eventually. “You’re learning. Took you long enough.”

Ben wants to argue that, but it’s not something he can deny. So he says nothing. 

Chirrut taps his leg again, lightly this time. “Come over here,” he instructs. “Flowers are good, but I’ve got something better. Been experimenting.” He turns and walks off, not needing to feel the ground around him in his own shop. Ben hesitates and he calls back over his shoulder, “Come!” Ben does.

Chirrut takes him into the greenhouse off the back of the store, where they keep the bigger plants. A few ornamental trees stand to either side of them along with sturdy shelves lined with large pots that Ben thinks even he might struggle to carry. Chirrut leads him to the workbenches at the back, strewn with wire and ribbon and leaves. To the side sit a few smaller shelves, and as soon as he sees what’s on them, he knows he’s found what he was looking for. 

“Crested Euphorbia,” Chirrut announces proudly, gesturing to the cacti. “Or coral cactus, that’s easier.” 

Ben crouches a little to get a better angle. The plants look like they belong in the ocean, gracefully waving fans sprouting from a sturdy base, just like the coral Chirrut called them. They look strange and a little unnatural, qualities Rey will love. “They’re perfect,” he says, looking over at the gardener, and Chirrut beams. “Did you graft them?”

He nods. “Sturdy though, not going to die on you. Barely even needs water, so don’t overdo it.” He prods with his stick for emphasis. 

“We won’t,” Ben says, making a mental note.

“Good,” Chirrut says. “Well, go on, pick one!”

Ben looks over them carefully, evaluating size, shape, waviness, and color. He settles on a slightly larger than average one towards the middle with lots of folds and a bright green shade edged in red. He reaches out and balances it carefully in his hands as he stands up. 

Chirrut taps the empty space with his stick to confirm and nods approvingly. “A good choice.” He starts walking back out to the front. “Let’s go, can’t keep that poor girl waiting.”

Ben follows and sets the cactus on the counter in front of Baze, who tears his gaze away from his book to look it and him over. He glances over at his husband, who has gone back to tending to the plants. “You get your act together then?” he asks gruffly. 

Ben struggles against a rude response and finally says, “Yes.” 

Baze grunts in satisfaction. “Good.” He rings Ben up and Ben passes over his card to pay. Soon enough, the cactus belongs to him, and Baze goes back to his book without anything else said. 

\---

Ben hauls the new plant up to the apartment, taking a deep breath before opening the door. He frowns when he looks around and doesn’t find Rey. He sets the cactus down on the table and quickly checks the bedroom and the bathroom with no sign of her. Finally, he thinks to check his phone and sighs when he finds a message from her mostly in abbreviations ending in a frowny face saying she has to work late on a project. He sends a quick response: “Okay. Will start supper. Love you.” and goes back to the kitchen. 

He pulls open the fridge and takes out the chicken and vegetables he’d bought earlier in the week. As he sets them on the counter, his gaze is inevitably drawn to the ivy covering the side of the fridge. It’s one of the older plants around, that particular mistake coming early in their relationship. He swallows as he thinks back to that week, the confused and angry and desperate messages Rey had left while he hid in his apartment. He’d been a mess, hardly able to say a word the entire time. Holdo had sat him down on her couch and waited for him to talk.

“She deserves better than me.”

Holdo lowered her notebook and looked at him, leveling the full weight of her blue eyes. His gaze dropped to his hands, and he started scratching the back of one with the other. 

“Ben,” she said gently. 

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled and turned his hands so that they clutched his knees. 

She took something off the table and passed it over to him. “Here.” He accepted the rubber band and started twisting it back and forth, unable to sit still with the nervous energy running through him. 

“Do you respect Rey?” she asked evenly. 

He stopped moving and looked up at her in shock. That wasn’t the question he’d been expecting. “What does that mean? Of course I do! Why? Do you think I don’t?”

“No, I don’t think that. I just want you to recognize that for yourself. So you have a lot of respect for her?”

He nodded. “Yeah, obviously. She’s amazing.”

“That’s good. Do you think you respect her boundaries?”

He thought for a second on that one, hands turning over each other. He’d said some things he regretted to Rey when they first met, but he didn’t think he’d pressed her like that. Finally, he nods again. “Probably. Yeah.”

Holdo hummed thoughtfully. “Do you think Rey has the ability to make decisions that are best for her?” 

He considered what he knew of Rey. She’d done things that make him want to wrap her up and protect her from the world and had a defensive streak a mile wide, but he’d never thought she couldn’t handle anything that got thrown at her. “She’s been hurt before. But she takes care of herself.”

His therapist nodded in satisfaction. “So you respect her as a person and her ability to decide for herself. And she has expressed that she wants to be in a relationship with you?”

Ben realized with a sinking feeling where this was going. He considered staying silent out of pure stubbornness, but he knew Holdo matched him too well on that front and would wait the entire session for him if necessary. Thoughts of Rey’s lips against his, her arms wrapping around him fought their way through his mind. “Yes,” he grumbled.

Holdo leaned back in her chair. “Do you want to be in a relationship with her?”

That cut deep. The obvious answer was yes, but that didn’t express how much he wanted to share his life with Rey. “So much,” he said quietly. 

“What I’m hearing is that you both want this relationship, and that you trust her to do what’s best for her. Do those sound like true statements to you?”

He struggled, but couldn’t find a way to deny it. “Yes.”

“Hmmm.” She paused, giving him a chance to add something, but he stayed quiet, staring at her chair. “In that case, what do you think you should do next?”

\---

He pulls the chicken off the stove and into the oven to rest, still thinking about that conversation. Holdo’s voice reverberates in his memory. The door opens, breaking into his reflection. Rey sets her laptop down next to the door, toes off her shoes, and grins at him. 

“Hey,” she says brightly, and walks over to join him in the kitchen. She wraps her arms around him from behind, and he lays his hands on top of them. 

“Hey, yourself,” he says quietly, bending into her embrace. “You’re cold,” he notes, feeling the chill of her hands under his. 

With a grin he feels against his back, she quickly feels her way under his sweater, yanks his shirt out of his pants, and thrusts her hands under it. He shouts, her icy fingers now pressed against his bare stomach. “You’re not,” she teases. 

He reaches back, trying to grab her sides, but she keeps wriggling away. She cackles as she drags her frozen fingers across his stomach and lower, making his abs clench. Her hand tries to dip under his waistband, aiming for a part of him that will appreciate the cold even less, and he abandons his quest to get her back and catches her hands instead. 

“Nope,” he says, laughing. 

“You sure?” Her hand tries to writhe out of his and dart lower but he keeps his hold. Even so, the contrast of her cool touch below his hips sends an interested shiver through him. 

“Very,” he says decisely, squeezing her hand. She nips his shoulder playfully. 

“I thought you’d want to warm me up,” she purrs, wiggling her fingers demonstratively. 

“Of course,” he says. He tugs her wrists until she lets him pull her away from his pants, then turns around to face her. He cups her hands between his and, holding her gaze, lowers his head to kiss them. She sighs contentedly, softening under his lips. He continues to lay gentle kisses over her fingers and palms until her pulls them away and wraps her arms around his neck, dragging him the rest of the way down to her. 

Her lips are chilled too, and her cheeks where they brush against his, but she quickly warms. She takes his lips with the same enthusiasm she always does, giving herself into the kiss. He can’t help but be a little awed by her eagerness, still a little dazed that it’s all for him, every time. He wraps his arms around her tightly, doing his best to surround her in warmth, as promised. She smiles against his lips and he knows that she knows what he’s doing. Bracing herself on his shoulders, she pushes herself off the ground and wraps her legs around him. He grunts as he shifts his grip on her, turning to lean back on the counter. 

“Long day?” he gasps, breaking away from breath.

She nods. “Last couple hours were all meetings. Just talking about the same things over and over when I could have been working on them. I was so bored. Kept thinking about what I was going to do to you when I got back to keep from falling off my chair.”

He darts in for a quick bite at her lower lip and she moans. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Wanted to be home doing something interesting but they kept on talking. Tried texting you.” He looks guiltily across the room to where his phone is plugged into the charger. She grabs his face to pull it back to hers. “Don’t worry about it. Much more fun to do them to you.”

“I -- mmm -- have supper ready. In the oven,” he tells her between kisses. 

That gets her to pause, but only briefly. She glances at the stove, considering, then shakes her head. “After,” she says decisively. Her hands worm their way back under his sweater and shirt and start shoving them upward. “Off,” she instructs. 

He struggles between letting her down and undressing, then walks her back to the table and sets her on top of it. With his hands free, he pulls his shirt and sweater off, then leans over to recapture his lips. Her hands wander appreciatively over his chest, maybe not as defined as it once was, but she doesn’t seem to mind. His hands settle at her waist, just under her polo. She groans and pushes him up. 

“One sec.” She pulls the shirt off and then twists her arms around to unhook her bra. She tosses it across the room to the couch. “Finally,” she moans, rubbing where the underwires had pressed into her. She’s put on some weight, same as him, helped by a regular schedule and meals, and hasn’t been pleased about the new need for bras that are more than tank tops. He helps, large hands covering her breasts. “D’you think I could get away with not wearing a bra to work anymore?”

He glances down at her stiff nipples. “Probably not,” he says. “You’re too sensitive and you’re always cold.”

She groans. “True.” Her hands cover his, then slide down to wrap around his waist. “You still have to warm me up then.”

He takes the challenge happily, dipping his head to take one breast in his mouth while his hand teases the other. His free hand spreads across her back, rubbing up and down. She moans and digs her hands into his hair, playing with it the way she likes. She purrs under his caresses as her skin grows flushed, losing its chill. 

“Mmm,” she sighs. “That’s so much better.” She shifts up the table, tugging his hair down. He goes easily, nipping at her stomach, rubbing his face into her skin. She still smells a bit like the outside, a bit like the engine grease she works with, but mostly the warm scent of _Rey_ that has become so much a part of his world, he doesn’t want to imagine living without it. He buries his nose just above her pants, and she squirms until she fits a hand between them to undo the button and pull down the zipper. 

He drags her pants and underwear down, but she raises her legs as he gets to her feet. “Leave my socks on? My feet are still cold.” 

He presses a kiss to her ankle. “Of course.” He takes the rest of her clothes off around the socks and tosses them next to the table. 

She spreads her legs for him, comically wide, grinning down the length of her body. Her hand finds its way between her legs, dragging her wetness up to her clit and circling it. He can’t resist and drops to his knees, hands pressing to her inner thighs as his tongue swipes along her sex. She jumps a little and moans at the sudden sensation, legs falling over his back. He wraps his arms around her, holding her in place as he buries his face against her. 

“Ben,” she whines above him, his name drawn out into a moan. He looks up from his blessed vantage point. Her expression is torn between pleasure and frustration. “I want you to fuck me,” she tells him while her hips arch into his mouth. Holding her gaze, he smirks and flicks his tongue right where he knows she’s weakest. “Ben!”

Slowly, he drags himself up from between her thighs, trailing his mouth along her until he reaches her lips. He holds her hips and adjusts her on the table. The cactus he placed there earlier sits precariously close to her head, and he reaches over her to move it to the side. It wouldn’t be the first time their inability to keep their hands off each other ended in casualties to the apartment, but he likes to think they’ve gotten better at avoiding those. 

Rey looks up as he sets the pot further away, but she can’t see much from her angle. He places it by the other plants to the side of her, hopefully out of reach and where it won’t fall off and kisses her again, drawing her attention back to him. Much as he wants to see her reaction to his gift, she’s succeeded in completely distracting him for the moment. 

His lips return to hers, dipping down to drag his mouth along her jaw, leaving sloppy kisses in his wake. She laughs, legs squeezing around him, and reaches between them to get rid of his pants. Her practiced hands take no time to undo the fastenings and shove his clothes out of her way, and she wraps her hand around his hardness. She uses her arousal and his to ease her movement over him, making him groan. Her hips tilt towards him, forcing her to use her other hand to balance behind her. He helps, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to guide them together. 

It takes them a moment to adjust so that he can slide into her easily. She falls back on both her elbows while he presses in, thumb circling over her clit. He looks over her body splayed before him, bare and ready and eager for _him_. Her elbows spread across the table as she leans back, and he groans, noticing how she only has to forget herself and spread her arms to hit the plants again. He knows the way Rey moves while he’s inside her, never giving much care to what gets in the way. Similar to her philosophy with most things, really. 

“Fuck,” he swears. He drags his hands from her, his fingers pinching her clit as he leaves. The way she tightens around him in response nearly makes him give in and forget himself again. With a heartfelt groan, he leans in to suck a mark into her shoulder, then tears himself away to move the damn plants. In the short time it takes to slide them back again and move her closer to the edge of the table, she’s already impatiently directing his attention back with her legs, her sock-clad feet hooking under his ass to pull her towards her. 

He growls and settles his hands back over her, cupping her breast and returning to her clit as he pushes the rest of the way into her. She gasps. His motion carries him forward until he’s sunk into her entirely, body bent over hers on the table. He breathes heavily against her neck while she stretches up to nip at his ear, tugging the lobe between her teeth. He’s always hated his ears, but she has a way of making him not mind. 

He rolls his hips into hers, never going far, a slow and steady rhythm they build together. He’ll never get enough of the feeling of her slick heat around him, her body under his hands, the way she’s constantly in motion, each touch another gift. His lips press into her neck, tasting her.

“Love this,” she moans. “Love you.”

His eyes close, emotion sweeting over him. “Love you too. So good, Rey.” Her name breaks off as she clenches around him. His patterns over her clit take on new urgency and his hips snap into hers helplessly. He dips his head to her breast, sucking it into her mouth to push her over that edge before him. 

She cries out, her body wringing his orgasm out of him, his hips thrusting past his end. He half-collapses over her, barely keeping from crushing her. She doesn’t mind, never has, wrapping around him as much as he does her. They lay together until Rey grows impatient and starts wriggling underneath him. He groans with exaggerated volume and stands, only to sit back in a chair pushed to the side. 

Rey pushes herself up to sit on the table, grinning at him. She looks around, then asks him, “Where’s your sweater?”

He scans the floor, spotting it crumpled with his shirt by the base of the counter. He heaves himself up and snags it, pulling the shirt out and discarding it again. He takes his boxers too and brings the sweater back to Rey, only to notice she’s found something else. Her roaming gaze has settled on the cactus, still miraculously on the table. 

“What’s this?” she asks, looking back at him with sparkling eyes. 

He sets the sweater on the table next to her and steps between her legs, wrapping an arm around her waist. “It’s for you,” he tells her. It’s not exactly how he’d planned to give her their first ‘good memory’ plant, but it’s not the worst situation he’s gifted her something in either. And as she sits on the table, naked and pink from his hands, he can’t deny that this is a positive association he won’t regret. 

“Oh my God, Ben!” she says, reaching out to brush her fingers over the spiked waves of the cactus’ fan. “Where did you find this? It’s amazing!”

“Baze and Chirrut’s,” he tells her. “One of Chirrut’s specialties, he only let me have one because it was for you.” She glances back at him with a grin. 

“He likes you,” she insists. 

He snorts. “He puts up with me. You’re his favorite. He thinks you can do better.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Never.” Her arm wraps around his neck and she pulls him into a kiss. He feels her smile against his lips as she breaks away. “I love it, Ben, thank you so much.” She looks up at him. “Is this for something? I didn’t forget like our anniversary or something, right?”

He shakes his head. “No. It’s just for you.”

She grins. “Thank you,” she repeats earnestly. 

“You deserve it.” He wraps both arms around her, pressing their bare chests together. She’s already begun to lose some of her warmth, and he rubs heat into her back, taking comfort in her skin against his. When they finally separate, he grabs the sweater again and hands it to her.

“I love this one,” she says, muffled as she pulls it over her head. He snorts. She’s never shown any particular discrimination in which of his clothes she steals, but he’s only too happy to give them to her. She scrunches her nose at him as her face emerges from the dark material. “I mean it,” she tells him. “This one’s so soft.” She cocks her head at him. “Did you have therapy today?”

“Yeah.” He kisses the freckle just to the side of her nose. 

Her hand squeezes at his waist, thumb rubbing over his skin. “Went okay?” 

He nods. “Yeah. It was good.”

“Good,” she repeats, smiling up at him. 

“How about you? Things going okay with Maz?” he asks. He’s only met her therapist briefly, but he’s seen how much she’s helped Rey. 

“Mhmm,” she says, landing a kiss on his jaw. “Appointment Thursday, I’ll be a little late home.”

“Of course.” 

She turns in his arms to look back at the cactus. “This is really beautiful,” she says, running her hand over the top ridge. She glances back at him out of the corner of her eyes. “You know you don’t have to get me things, right? You’ve already given me so much.”

“I know,” he assures her. “I wanted to.”

She sighs and buries her head in his chest. He bows his head down to hers, breathing in the scent of her hair. “Love you,” she says, lips brushing his skin. 

“Love you,” he says in return.

They stay like this until Rey starts sniffing, the smell of their supper drifting from the oven, filling the kitchen and spilling over. He groans. 

“Should probably turn that off before it burns,” he sighs. 

“I’ve got it.” He steps back from the table and she slips down to the floor. His sweater falls to cover her as she stands, down past her fingers and over her ass, and she snuggles into it, now sufficiently warm with his clothes and her socks. She slides across the kitchen floor and opens the oven to peer inside. She sniffs the hot air that spills out and moans. 

“That smells so good,” she says. 

He watches, almost unable to handle all the feelings inspired by her surrounded by his clothes, still dripping from their combined essence, complimenting what he’s made for her. She slides back over to him for another kiss before she’s off again, grabbing plates and cups from the cabinets. She hums tunelessly as she does, and he’s not sure she even notices. 

He starts thinking about what kind of plant he might get her next, when he wants to do something just because. Maybe it’ll be a slow day, and they’ll spend the evening on the couch. Or maybe it’ll be the kind of day where he’ll just have time to kiss her cheek before one of them is off again. He can’t wait to see. 

He thinks of the amaryllis again and wonders what it might look like with a ring tied to its stem. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to look up the meanings of the flowers listed in the beginning of the fic; I had a lot of fun with those. And the titular cactus is pretty cool looking. I'd pet it.
> 
> Thoughts? :D
> 
> Catch me on [tumblr](http://thewayofthetrashcompactor.tumblr.com/), [twitter](https://twitter.com/briartrash), and [pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/thelastjedi)


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